


Red Sky At Night

by Nellblazer



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV), Marvel
Genre: Crossover, DC/Marvel - Freeform, Daredevil (TV) Spoilers, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Gotham City - Freeform, Hell's Kitchen, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Mission Fic, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:42:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23584795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nellblazer/pseuds/Nellblazer
Summary: Tracking a criminal from Gotham to Hell’s Kitchen, Jason Todd gets more than he bargains for.Commission piece for @dillydollydonut. Hope you enjoy!Prompts included: Red theme, H/C, Threats of Non Con* Please do not replicate my work without my expression permission. I have accounts on Tumblr and Wattpad too *
Comments: 9
Kudos: 79





	Red Sky At Night

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Graphic descriptions, torture, threats of non-con, references to past trauma
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)
> 
> This has a tie in to my All Is Fair In Love And Gang Wars fic too!
> 
> \- NB

Jason didn't mind a field trip now and again but this was a fucking trek.

Following this low rent cartoonised villain from Gotham to the ass end of Hell's Kitchen was not what he had in mind for his weekend. Unfortunately, he had to. Some big time player from this place was sending his goons down to Jason's turf and he was sick of tracking them all.

Take it out at the source.

Hell's Kitchen was the type of dreary shithole he'd expect more from The Narrows then apparently upscale New York. He'd frankly seen cleaner streets in Crime Alley.

Heading across the rooftops, he paused to watch some drunk kids stagger along before one puked an unholy amount of vomit all over the road. Jason already wanted to leave.

“Check in, Jaybird,” Dick's voice on the comms.

“Yeah I'm here, Bruce's favourite son.”

“There's no need for that-”

“-There's no need for you either but you keep existing,” Jason sasses.

He hears the audible sigh on the other end and the sound of Dick trying to stop himself saying something he'd regret. It was always so easy to push his buttons.

“Are you at the location?”

“Yeah, Hell's Kitchen is just about right. I hope I never have to live here.”

“Then make sure you don't get evicted otherwise your options are staying with me, staying with Bruce or there.”

“All horrible options,” Jason mutters. “I'll never fall behind on rent again.”

“If you got a job during the day-”

“-Shut up, Nightwing. I'm working here. Leave the lectures for later, preferably when I'm asleep.”

Dick was just about to retort when there was the sound of fumbling on the other end and then a female voice, “Hey Jay, you get there safe?”

Wren, Dick's girlfriend. Definitely a better fit than Dick and Kori. Jason had gotten tired of switching off his comms whenever they got frisky on missions.

“Yeah, I'll have to take five showers when I get back but I'm good. Just waiting for this henchman to lead me to whoever the big cahuna is.”

“Well be safe. Dick and I are having a barbecue on Sunday evening so drop by if you're back by then.”

“Wouldn't miss it. Talk later guys,” Jason switches off the comms.

He would never admit it but it was kinda nice doing things as a family sometimes. So much of that world had been warped by Bruce that he'd nearly forgotten how families were supposed to be and even though Dick was not his biological brother....he was as good as, even if he was a straightlaced pain in the ass.

In his peripheral eyeline, he saw the man he'd been tailing scurrying up the street, furtively looking round before darting into an art gallery of all places. He didn't look well dressed enough for that kinda joint.

Jason rappelled down the side of the building, catching through the window a snippet of the guy his mark was meeting. He was bulky, bald and didn't look particularly threatening...only like a standard bouncer.

If he wanted more information, he'd have to get in and he could already tell the only way to do that was through the front door. Looks like he'd have to overhaul his look.

**

The suit was uncomfortable and he was painfully aware of people staring at the white streak in his hair. He hated people looking at it.

Was it weird to say he felt better once he got into the art gallery? At least there was some sort of standard where people weren't so blatantly rude.

He pretended to peruse, thinking most of this shit was pretentious as fuck. Who could honestly say a totally white painting was the height of creativity? If Jason sneezed on the canvas, he might up its value just for the abstractness of it.

“May I help you or are you just browsing today, sir?” an older lady who still knocked it outta the park approaches.

“Just browsing. I'm thinking about moving and I'd love something new to take with me.”

“Out of towner,” she comes to stand beside him. “Well I'm afraid this painting is reserved but maybe I can find something else that inspires you. Where are you from?”

“Gotham.”

“Oh it's lovely there. I'm Vanessa, by the way.”

“James,” Jason lies.

“I know what you might like,” Vanessa smiles and beckons him over. “You strike me as the edgy type, the darker type. Try this one.”

Well shit. It was actually really nice. Blues, reds and blacks in conceptional swirls but if he looked hard, he could see the outline of a skull and then if he looked another way, a hand being pulled into an abyss. Jason was not fancy but he could appreciate nuanced art now and again.

“You're taken with it, aren't you?” Vanessa watches him. “Does it speak to you?”

And if Jason looked yet another way.....it was the blood stained floor of the warehouse where the Red Hood was born.

“Yes,” he answers quietly, shivering a little.

“Take your time,” Vanessa has a reassuring smile ready before she spots another customer. “Come find me if you need me.”

She goes to greet the woman who just walked in, leaving him alone as he stared at the painting some more. He didn't even see the hefty bouncer looking guy until he was nearly shoulder to shoulder with him.

“Such melancholy I see in this,” the man says in a gruff voice. “Such pain and agony. It can only draw in those who see it within themselves.”

Okay, this guy was more articulate than Jason gave him credit for. Maybe he was the head honcho he was looking for after all.

The man leans in after checking Vanessa was far away, “You're a long way from Gotham, Mr Hood.”

Jason's insides clenched but he showed nothing on the surface. In hindsight, walking into the front door of a bad guy's base was a fucking dumb move. He really should have more patience to do recon.

“Rude not to get a name in return if you know mine,” Jason murmurs.

“Fisk, Wilson Fisk. I did wonder if any of you Gotham do-gooders would be paying me a visit but I rather expected it to be Nightwing rather than you. I'm not so egotistical as to think the great Batman will bother with me.”

“I'll try not to be insulted,” the sarcasm pours out of him.

He was used to Gotham scumbags belittling him because he wasn't Bruce but he didn't need it in this bumfuck district too. His ego couldn't take that kind of pounding.

“Don't mistake me, I've followed your work,” Fisk hasn't taken his eyes off the painting in all this time. “Reckless, impulsive....but raw strength, brutality with combat training...it's a heady mix.”

“So what's the state of play?” Jason's eyes have already flicked to the doorway which has been shut without him realising.

“Well, Mr Hood, I can't have you ruining my operations so I'm afraid you'll be staying with me. I'm rather enjoying my expansion into Gotham territories.”

“I don't think I will, pal,” Jason snorts but when Fisk grabs him by the neck and throws him into a side room, he realises he's vastly underestimated this guy.

He slides into a pile of boxes like a goddamn bowling ball. Guess Fisk was like Bane with an actual IQ.

“Now I imagine if I try to lock you in here you'd escape so let's get you all tied up.”

Jason tries to dodge but Fisk's frame takes up the entire doorway and he gets a solid blow to the face which nearly rocks his teeth out. He's set upon by too many men to fight off whilst his hands are bound and he's wrangled, kicking and writhing, into a chair and duct taped to the damn thing.

“Watch him, O'Shea,” Fisk says to a thug with the most perfectly plucked eyebrows Jason had ever seen. “I'll be back tomorrow. I have a lovely evening with Vanessa planned. Culture comes first, violence second.”

“Well thanks for the reprieve I guess,” Jason rolls his eyes.

Fisk laughs before he delivers another blow, blood splattering on his knuckles as Jason's nose crunches in a horrific way but not bad enough to break. Fisk cleans his hands with a handkerchief before wandering out of the door.

Now Jason was left with this O'Shea character.

“Just you and me, pretty boy,” the guy smirks. “I'd get some rest. Fisk won't be back until the morning.”

“That long? What if I have to take a leak?”

“I can find a bottle for that,” O'Shea shrugs.

After what felt like a couple of hours of tense silence, Jason finally started drifting into a catnap. It was fitful, it was unpleasant but it was needed. He'd been travelling for a long time and eventually Dick would realise he was out of action when he didn't check in at midnight.

Something jerked him out of his dozing, a hand on his leg.

“Just let me sleep,” Jason grumbles. “And get the fuck off.”

“Are all Gotham heroes this hot?” O'Shea is inches away from him.

“No, just me,” Jason deadpans. “Now, Get. OFF.”

“Fisk won't mind if I have my fun. He's a very generous boss, you see.”

“Well I don't swing that way, pal. Back up.”

“Don't care if you do or not.”

Jesus fucking Christ, was this guy really gonna try this? The second he got round the front of Jason, he was gonna boot him so hard in the groin that his cock would need inflating to get rid of the flatness.

“At least look me straight in the eye if you're gonna touch me,” Jason taunts.

“You pretty little shit,” O'Shea walks in front and crumpled to the ground when Jason's foot made contact.

“That's for being a creepy rapist fuck. Stay away from me.”

“You're gonna regret that,” O'Shea gets up and pulls out a knife.

Okay, maybe it wasn't the best plan Jason had ever come up with but he wasn't about to let this guy have free reign over his goods.

“Just not the face, huh?” he tries to joke but it falls flat when the blade ends up stuck in his shoulder.

“How about you say you're sorry before I twist this?” O'Shea snarls.

“How about you go fuck yourself?”

Why did he always have to get the last word in? He bitterly regretted it when he was howling in pain as the knife was yanked violently to one side, spilling blood down his fancy jacket.

“This was a rental, you asshole!” Jason says through gritted teeth.

“Oops. Should've been a good little boy then.”

When the blade is dragged slowly out of him, he's trying not to pass out, to show how badly he's hurt. The second you let guys like this know they've got the upper hand, it's over.

O'Shea straddles Jason so he can't be kicked before grabbing his hair and pulling his head back, baring his throat.

“What's stopping me from killing you, right now?” O'Shea muses, running the blade along Jason's neck lightly. “Fisk doesn't need you. He only wants to know about the Gotham hero network and I can get that info from you myself.”

“That's assuming I'll talk,” Jason fires back.

“You will. They all do.”

There's a crash and suddenly the weight on Jason's legs is removed. He snaps his head back up in time to see something red dart across his eyeline, slamming O'Shea into the wall so his head bounces in an awkward way and he falls to the ground unconscious.

Once this newcomer stands still, Jason looks in abject awe at the red clad figure with the devil horned mask and the glazed orange lenses hiding his eyes. Guess Gotham wasn't the only place with amusingly dressed vigilantes.

“Are you the Red Hood?” he asks.

“Only on the weekends. Who are you?”

“Nightwing contacted me to help. I'm here to get you away from Fisk.”

“Look, I don't need anyone's help.”

“Clearly,” comes the dry reply. “If you're that sure I'll just go then, huh?”

He starts walking out and Jason has to swallow his pride, “No, wait! Don't leave me here, please!”

“Thought you didn't need my help?”

“It's fucking embarrassing, okay?”

The guy's mouth twitches in a smile before coming back to untie Jason, ripping the duct tape open and then undoing the knots.

“Geez, your shoulder....that's a real mess, kid,” he sighs, helping Jason to his feet.

“It's nothing. Anyway, who the hell are you?”

“Uh...folks call me Daredevil...I didn't pick the name,” he shrugs apologetically.

“And how the hell does Nightwing know you?”

“He doesn't. I just got a call patched through to my cell and it turned out to be him. Now let's get you outta here.”

Oracle. That had to be how. Barbara was always eerily amazing at tracking anybody useful.

“Not gonna argue with that,” Jason walks out of the storage room back into the gallery. “Been doing this long? The whole hero thing I mean.”

“Few years. Been trying to take Fisk down for a while.”

“Yeah I really misjudged that one.”

“So did I to start with.”

Sounded like there was more to that story but Jason didn't press. He had his own issues to be getting on with.

“I need to take Fisk down too. He's sending guys to my city to 'expand his empire'. Gotham doesn't need another Falcone situation.”

“He is? Shit,” Daredevil hisses. “We're not gonna do anything in your state. You need rest.”

“I'm fine. I'm tougher than I look.”

“You're wheezing with every breath, your gait is off and I keep hearing you wince. You're _not_ fine.”

“How the fuck do you know?”

“I know. Let's get outta here. We can regroup and figure out a plan.”

Before they get ten more paces into the gallery, two guys who Jason assumes to be Fisk's goons walk in from another door, chatting away about some reality show. They stop when they see Jason and Daredevil before pulling out guns. They seem hesitant to shoot though...but why?

“Stop right there. Get back in the storage room,” one pipes up. “You too, Daredevil.”

It clicks when Jason sees their eyes flickering from painting to painting.

“You won't shoot us, you don't wanna damage the art.”

“Nice spot,” Daredevil smiles. “Now boys, I really don't like having guns pulled on me.”

With a swift dart, he dives behind a pillar and is set upon by one man whilst Jason lunges at the other. His shoulder hurts, it fucking hurts but he can't let that stop him. The fistfight is sloppy, he keeps tasting blood in the back of his mouth but he manages to beat the guy down to the floor where he begins slamming his head down over and over.

“HEY!” Daredevil calls. “You're gonna kill him!”

“That's the point.”

“Knock 'em out. You don't need to murder him.”

“Is that how things are done in Hell's Kitchen?” Jason sneers, getting off the broken henchman. “God, it's just like being back around Batman. Fuck. Do-gooders everywhere.”

“Do-gooders?” Daredevil approaches and Jason can see his jaw is clenched. “You're just another Punisher. Always wanting to kill first and ask questions later. This is _my_ town, Red Hood. We do things my way.”

“Sounds like I'd really like this Punisher guy,” Jason grumbles under his breath but by the sharp way Daredevil looks up at him, he must've heard it.

“Now let's go.”

“One second.”

Jason takes out a pocket knife and begins stabbing at the canvas Vanessa had shown him earlier, ripping around the edges until he could extract it and roll it up.

“Are you stealing?” Daredevil folds his arms.

“Call it payment for getting slapped around and nearly fondled,” Jason tucks it into his jacket. “It...uh....spoke to me.”

Daredevil says nothing but motions to high tail it outta there. Both men run out into the street and Jason tugs on his arm, pointing at a roof.

“I left my gear and medical kit up there.”

“Lead the way.”

After a really embarrassing fall from a fire escape, Jason finally makes it to the top of the building where he immediately sheds his stained jacket and shirt, pulling gauze and stitching equipment out of his bag and placing the painting in there instead.

Daredevil is quiet whilst Jason disinfects and sews himself back up. Eventually he sits down next to him and removes his mask. It's only then that Jason sees how remarkable this guy is.

“You're blind?!”

“So they tell me,” he laughs. “Do I just call you Red Hood or....”

“It's Jason.”

“I'm Matt. I think I can trust you not to spread that around.”

“Likewise,” Jason grimaces as he pulls the needle through again.

Fuck, it hurt.

“We can work on this together, you know,” Matt sighs, gazing into the middle distance. “Fisk, I mean. I'm not too proud that I can't admit when I need help and I desperately could use some. He's slippery, well connected and always has a strategy for everything. I'm trying to fight him both at night _and_ the day and I'm not doing so well.”

“The day?”

“In my job.”

“You a cop?” Jason asks, thinking Matt might be the Hell's Kitchen equivalent of Dick.

“Lawyer,” Matt laughs softly. “Some of us are actually human, you know. So what do you do?”

“Uh....just this.”

“Not got a job?”

“I'm a Batman legacy kid, let's say. I have connections that keep me funded, plus I re-appropriate a lot of the cash that criminals make to put it back into crime fighting. I hardly keep anything for myself.”

“Tough in Gotham too, huh?”

“You have no idea,” Jason bandages his arm before lying back on the roof and staring at the minimal stars above, the dawn just starting to edge the night away. “Imagine a Fisk in most districts except crazier variations on the formula. There's a few of us that take care of the city but it's hard.”

“We have a few around here too but they're not the friendliest of people,” Matt says wryly. “They only come together for the big stuff. So how about it? Will you stay for a little while and help me take down Fisk?”

“As long as you never mention to anyone that I was duct taped to a chair.”

Matt laughs, “You got it.”

“Sure. Let's do this thing. You got a place I can crash?”

“Yeah, follow me,” Matt puts his mask back on before getting up.

Jason gets out his phone and rolls his eyes at the mothering texts Dick has sent him before sending one back.

**RH: All okay. Staying in HK a little longer. Got your help from DD. We're taking down the boss together. Tell Wren I'll miss the barbecue.**

He gets an almost immediate response.

**NW: Glad you're alright. Oracle says DD is a good guy. Be safe. Will tell Wren. Stay outta trouble, JB. Call us if you need our help.**

Yeah right. Since when did he ever stay outta trouble?

Jason shook his head before following his new partner across the rooftops of Hell's Kitchen. Guess he was staying in this shithole for the foreseeable.

Yippee....


End file.
